


Sweaty Kisses

by agent_starbuck



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 05:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_starbuck/pseuds/agent_starbuck
Summary: 30. Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot.33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.Tumblr prompt. I’ve always wanted to write about a scenario where Mulder/Scully walk in on the other after a workout. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.





	Sweaty Kisses

Scully never used to be much of a runner. In fact, before her cancer diagnosis, she’s sure she can count on one hand the number of times she went on a run purely for reasons not forced upon her as a requirement of her job or out of necessity for survival. She always marvelled at how Mulder could get up hours ahead of work and routinely squeeze in a 6-mile run. In the infancy of their partnership, during their cases away from home, he often asked her to accompany him on his late-night or early-morning runs. Her answer was always the same.  _Pass_.

 

Then, she got sick.

 

She remembers lying in that hospital bed for, what felt like, an eternity. Days blended into nights, nights into days, to the point that it didn’t even matter anymore– day or night. The ticking sound of time offered little more than the somber tempo to which her own requiem was set. Each beat bringing her closer and closer to her inevitable demise. She was angry. Angry at her body for betraying her so. Angry at being stuck inside this traitorous vessel that had decided to stage such a mutiny against her. She craved health and vitality. Yearned for the days when her body worked for her, not against.

 

So, when she got better, and slowly began to regain some of her strength, one of the first things she decided to do was go for a run. There was no set destination. Nowhere she needed to be. Just the warm, spring wind against her face as she weaved her way through park benches and dog walkers. When she got home, her legs ached and her lungs burned, but she’d never felt more alive– more free. She’d instantly become an addict.

 

Several months (and several pairs of running shoes) later, she still finds herself hitting the pavement whenever she has the time. This is her little indulgence– a sacred part of the day set aside just for her. Not even Mulder knows of her secret obsession. Which is why, after one of her Saturday afternoon runs, she opens her door to find Mulder on the other side staring at her curiously as though she’d suddenly grown a third eye.

 

“Hey, uh, Scully. Bad time?”

 

(When has Mulder ever chosen a  _good_  time to show up unannounced at her apartment?)

 

He leans against the door frame leisurely, eyeing her up and down with those disarming, hazel eyes.

 

He’s wearing a navy blue t-shirt and khaki shorts, and she’s taken aback by his casual appearance.

 

“Mulder. Hi. Um, no. Come in,” she replies between breaths, stepping aside to let him in. She manages a quick peek at herself in the mirror over the entryway table.

 

The runaway strands of hair not restrained by her ponytail are plastered messily against her sweat-slicked skin, flushed cheeks making her freckles pop out fiercely against her make-up free complexion. Beads of moisture slink down her face and neck to pool in the dips of her collarbones. She’s wearing a faded, oversized Georgetown tank top that used to be her brother’s, a sports bra, and a pair of black leggings.

 

She tucks a sweaty piece of hair behind her ear as though the act will suddenly make her more presentable. Not like it matters, anyway. It’s just Mulder, after all.

 

“I know it’s hot out there, Scully, but you look like you just stepped out of a sauna,” he teases.

 

“I just came back from a run.”

 

“A run? In this heat?”

 

“Mmhm. You want something to drink?”

 

Making her way to the kitchen, she procures for herself a cold bottle of water, downing half its contents in a few, eager gulps, then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She presses the bottle to her cheek, relishing the way the cold plastic feels against her overheated skin.

 

Mulder stands awkwardly in her living room, gaping at her wide-eyed while licking his lips thirstily. He sets a pile of paperwork on the kitchen table and makes his way purposefully towards her.

 

“As a matter of fact, yes. I would like something to drink.”

 

“What would you like? I’ve got tea, juice–” she turns to take inventory of the contents in her refrigerator when, suddenly, she feels the door slam shut and spins around to find Mulder towering over her.

 

“I’ll take water,” he replies huskily. He’s so close, she can smell him: the masculine scent of sweat and deodorant. Her head feels woozy from the combination.

 

“Mulder, you have to move if you want me to get you a water,” she replies, voice a little too unsteady for her liking.

 

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head slowly, eyes never leaving hers, as he steps closer still. The cold, smooth metal of her refrigerator presses against her back, eliciting a shiver. “I want  _that_  water.”

 

It takes her a moment to comprehend what he’s saying, her mind on a 30-second delay, before she feels his fingers close around hers on the water bottle she’s holding. She relinquishes control of the drink and watches in awe as he brings the plastic bottle to his mouth, wrapping his perfect, plump lips over the opening where her mouth was only moments before, and guzzling the rest of her water down in a few, long gulps.

 

They stand in silence, staring at one another as if at an impasse. She’s struggling to catch her breath, chest heaving wildly, and she can’t decide if it’s because of the exertion from her run or Mulder’s close proximity. Her heart gallops fiercely against her ribs. She notices his lips curl into a smug smirk, as if he’s privy to a secret yet unbeknownst to her and, before her mind has a chance to catch up, he dips his head to capture her lips in a soft, sweaty kiss.

 

The shock of it steals the breath from her lungs. She wasn’t prepared for  _this_. She’s so stunned, in fact, that she forgets to actually engage in the kiss until several seconds have already passed, instinct finally kicking in. His lips are warm and tacky against hers– the pressure firm, but yielding. It’s not presumptuous, but holds the promise of more. It’s lazy and sweet and oh so perfect. Kissing Mulder feels perfect.

 

She practically whimpers when he pulls away, all too soon. Her eyes flutter open, and she’s met with a very satisfied Mulder staring back at her.

 

“What was that for?” She can’t help the smile that splits her face in half.

 

“Just finally quenching a thirst that’s been there  _way_  too long,” he chuckles, brushing a lock of hair off her sweaty face.

 

“Oh? And are you satisfied?”

 

“Not nearly,” he whispers, leaning in for another kiss.


End file.
